


A Lot of Magic in These Stories

by strangeallure



Series: Hermione Granger and the Spirit of Purim [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Fanart, Friendship, Gen, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, all your faves are jewish, oh to be young and at hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure
Summary: For a long moment, all Hermione could do was blink at the truly hideous porcelain menorah he presented to her. None of the candles were the same color or height, and he seemed to have attacked most of their bottoms with a knife to make them fit into their holders.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley
Series: Hermione Granger and the Spirit of Purim [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179872
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10
Collections: All Your Faves Are Jewish, Purimgifts 2021





	A Lot of Magic in These Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starfishstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/gifts).



> I hope you've been having a wonderful Purim and that you'll like the ending to this story! ♥

To Hermione’s surprise, Ron arranging a stealth Purim celebration hadn’t been a one-time gesture. Instead, it had evolved into regular conversations, mostly centered on upcoming Jewish holidays, and while they never explicitly agreed not to tell anyone, these conversations only ever happened when they were alone together.

“Look what I have here,” Ron said, clearly excited about the object he held in his hand.

For a long moment, all Hermione could do was blink at the truly hideous porcelain menorah he presented to her. None of the candles were the same color or height, and he seemed to have attacked most of their bottoms with a knife to make them fit into their holders.

“Where did you get a menorah?”

“I nicked it from one of my dad’s boxes with muggle artefacts,” he said with a mischievous eyebrow waggle. “I thought we could go up to the owl tower after nightfall and light it together.”

As Ron stood there with his ugly, gaudy menorah, a happy warmth grew in Hermione's chest at the prospect of sharing Hanukkah with him. She couldn’t wait to get out the gelt and dreidels her parents had sent her in their last package. 

“That’s a good idea, Ron,” she said. “I like it.”

\--

It took Ron several tries, but a little over one year later, as they were lighting four candles in the dimness of the owl tower, he finally managed to get the blessing right without having to read it off the scroll, radiating pride when she nodded her approval, and Hermione felt her heart swell as she watched his smiling face in the candle light.

\--

Occasionally, she thought there’d be an end to it all. That Ron would grow tired or forget or be too busy, but no matter what happened – O.W.L. preparations, the threat of Voldemort looming ever larger, Quidditch practice – he always made time to share this part of Hermione’s heritage with her.

\--

“So they made a man from clay and their oil for one night lasted eight nights and when they left Egypt, an entire ocean parted to let them pass?” Ron summarized several stories Hermione had been telling.

“Yes, exactly."

The first few times she had relayed stories from the Torah or Jewish folklore, Hermione had stressed that they were just stories not exact histories, but she had quickly realized that Ron understood the difference without her constantly pointing it out. It had made their conversations much easier, less stilted. And soon Ron had been asking questions and trying to relate her stories to his own life and upbringing. The Weasleys might not have known the concepts of religion or faith as such, but they had values, too, and traditions that were important to them, and funny stories and good food.

“There’s a lot of magic in these stories,” Ron mused, “no wonder you’re so good at it.”

Hermione scoffed, even as she felt herself flush at the praise. “It’s not magic, it’s miracles.”

Ron peered at her, a look of genuine contemplation on his face. “I’m not sure there’s a difference.”

And maybe, there didn’t always have to be.

\--

As things at Hogwarts were getting worse and Dolores Umbridge had taken over as their _Defence Against the Dark Arts_ teacher, the formation of Dumbledore’s Army had been a bright spot, especially once Dobby had showed them the Room of Requirement, where they could hold their training sessions in peace.

One day, after an evening of especially vigorous D.A. practice, Ron asked Hermione to take a walk with him. Exhausted and a bit grimy, her impulse had been to say no, but she decided that some fresh, wintery air might do her good.

Once they were outside and out of earshot of their friends, he said, “Purim is coming up, you know?”

“I know,” she replied with a hint of amusement.

“And it’s on a Hogsmeade weekend this year.”

Hermione pulled her scarf tighter and nodded, unsure what he was getting at.

“I had an idea.” The moon above them was bright enough that she thought she could see him blush. “We could get a Portkey to your parents’ house from the Room of Requirement. Visit them for Purim while the teachers think we’re at Hogsmeade.” Before she could make a counter argument, he pressed on, “We could say my dad took us, that he’s in their area on official business and will pick us up after his meeting. That we got a special permission from Dumbledore because it’s an off-grounds weekend.” He rubbed at the skin across his Adam’s apple, a sure sign that he was nervous. “It could work, Hermione. You could have a real Purim for once, at least for a few hours. You could see your family.”

He looked at her anxiously, but excited, too, and it was such an amazing offer that it made her forget the cold, made her throat grow tight with emotion.

She could have a real Purim. She could _show him_ a real Purim. Ron could try her aunt’s baking and her bubbe’s cooking. He could laugh at their silly costumes and listen to her dad’s _Funny Songs for Purim_ playlist.

A part of Hermione thought it’d be selfish to go home and celebrate in dire times like these, but another part insisted that this could be good for both of them, Ron and her. Having a few hours away from the troubles of the wizarding world, being with her family, eating too much, laughing too loud, and feeling connected to a history and tradition that had been passed down from one generation to the next for almost four thousand years might be just what they needed in such uncertain times.

It took her a moment to find her voice again, but when she did, Hermione could feel a smile bloom bright on her face. “I think,” she said and took both of Ron’s hands in hers, “you're right. Let's do it.”


End file.
